Entice: An Ignite Novella Read Online Free PDF Page A

much easier to control those willing to be controlled.”
    “Who would ever want to be controlled?”
    “Those who value their way of life. The ignorant.”
    I’ll never be ignorant.
    He studies me for a moment and grins. “You would do anything for your brother, would you not?”
    I don’t answer him, but I don’t need to. Any answer he needs is written all over me, screaming from my soul—what little is left of it.
    “I thought so.” He stands up and drifts away from the throne, pacing a large spiral around me until he’s so close I can feel his breath on the back of my neck. “And if he were in some sort of...trouble? What lengths would you go to in order to secure his safety?” He reappears in front of me, and when he breathes, I smell the rusty scent of blood.
    “What do you want?” I ask again.
    “I’ve already told you. I want to trust you. Because that brother of yours—I find him quite useful. Unquestioningly loyal, brutal, a great fighter. It’s not often I see those qualities in an angel.” He laughs again, and it sounds like nails peeling apart metal. He makes his way back to his throne. “Though, I suppose he isn’t an angel anymore, is he?”
    I look down at my feet.
    “And neither are you.”
    “If there’s something you need from me, I would appreciate you getting to the point.”
    “In a rush, are you?” He arches an eyebrow. “Eager to get back to pacing the halls? Or have you still not made it through that journal of yours? Last I saw, you were scribbling a rather fascinating diatribe about Hell.” His fingers draw invisible script in the air as he quotes my journal. “‘War has made a liar of us all, but none more than me. I arm myself not with morals, for those have been long trampled by the new arrogance of an old angel, but with fiction. Fictions of belonging; fictions of allegiance. I will become a character of falsehood.’”
    My jaw is tight and my throat constricted. How does he know what I write? A creeping feeling crawls its way up my spine and spreads through my veins. I’m being watched.
    His eyes glint, pleased to be able to unnerve me. “But if succinctness is what you desire, very well. I will, as you so crassly put, get to the point.”
    There is a series of cracking, splintering sounds, like the ice is shattering below my feet. I have the sudden sensation that I am going to fall through the ice. Where would I fall though? There’s nothing below this level of Hell. Only oblivion.
    I look down at my feet, but the ice is thick and perfectly smooth. The unsteadiness—the breaking—is happening only in my mind.
    “You pose a threat,” he says, breaking into my thoughts. “Not to me, exactly, but to Azael. You have an interesting hold on what is left of his heart.” His words shrivel from his thin lips. “ Let it go. ”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Azael could be unbelievably powerful if you let him. But as long as you’re there, whispering in his ear and reminding him of his old life, of what he was in Heaven, he won’t become who he’s supposed to be. If you don’t let go of the light, neither will he. Not entirely. Do you understand?”
    “You want me to...what? Forget about Heaven?” I narrow my eyes at him, but he only continues to watch me, amused. “Is that what you wanted Hell to be all along? Some dark contrast to Heaven’s light?”
    His voice grows piercingly angry. “I want you to obey every order I hand down. I want you to listen instead of question, to bow your head in my presence instead of lift your chin. You are to give me your allegiance, not your opinion.”
    “And why would I do that?” I cross my arms over my chest.
    “Because your brother’s life is in my hands. If I do not see you adjust better to your new... surroundings , I will kill him.”
    No.
    “Yes,” he hisses.
    “Why kill him? Wouldn’t it be easier to kill me?”
    “It would. I’m half tempted to cut out that obstinate tongue of yours, but you’re not worth the